Harry Potter and the Change of Heart
by LadyNightfyre
Summary: When Harry has to save all of the Dursleys from the Dementors, someone steps up to make sure that Harry, and the Dursleys are protected.
1. Dudley, curious

AN/Disclaimer: Yes, a lot of this first chapter is directly taken from Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. But there are a few substantial differences. Please, give it a try! Everything you recognize belongs to JK Rowling!

I am hoping to have a Beta, so if anyone is interested, please let me know!

Harry vaulted over the locked parkgate and set off across the parched grass. The park was as empty as the surrounding streets. When he reached the swings he sank on to the only one that Dudley and his friends had not yet managed to break, coiled one arm around the chain and stared moodily at the ground. He would not be able to hide in the Dursleys' flowerbed again. Tomorrow, he would have to think of some fresh way of listening to the news. In the meantime, he had nothing to look forward to but another restless, disturbed night, because even when he  
escaped the nightmares about Cedric he had unsettling dreams about lhis friends in trouble while he stood by, unable to help them, which he supposed had something to do with the trapped feeling he had when he was awake. Often the old scar on his forehead prickled uncomfortably, but he did not fool himself that Ron or Hermione or Sirius would find that very interesting any more. Well, maybe Hermione would. He smiled as he thought of his bushy haired friend. She would probably want to run to Dumbledore first thing, though he was fairly sure that Dumbledore wouldn't act on it. Speaking of the old man, how? How could Dumbledore have forgotten him so easily? Were Ron and Hermione and everyone else really all right? Where was everyone, and why couldn't he be there too? These furious thoughts whirled around in Harry's head, and his insides writhed with worry and fear as a sultry, velvety night fell around him, the air full of the smell of warm, dry grass, and the only sound that of the low grumble of traffic on the road beyond the park railings.  
He wished with all his might that the quiet of the night would be broken by the soft beating of wings, the sound of an owl finding him; better still would have been the sharp crack of apparition and the sight of Sirius, or Remus Lupin, or even Alastor Moody, come to take him away. He hated it here, isolated from everyone he loved, unable to protect them, unable to protect himself. He did not know how long he had sat on the swing before the sound of voices interrupted his musings and he looked up. The streetlamps from the surrounding roads were casting a misty glow strong enough to silhouette a group of people making their way across the park. One of them was singing a loud, crude song. The others were laughing. A soft ticking noise came from several expensive racing bikes that they were wheeling along.  
Harry knew who those people were, but sadly they were no one he wished to see. The figure in front was unmistakably his cousin, Dudley Dursley, wending his way home, accompanied by his faithful gang. Dudley was as vast as ever, but a year's hard dieting and the discovery of a new talent had wrought quite a change in his physique. As Uncle Vernon delightedly told anyone who would listen, Dudley had recently become the Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast. 'The noble sport', as Uncle Vernon called it, had made Dudley even more formidable than he had seemed to Harry in their primary school days when he had served as Dudley's first punching bag. Harry was not remotely afraid of his cousin any more, but he still didn't think that Dudley learning to punch harder and more accurately was cause for celebration. Neighborhood children all around were terrified of him - even more terrified than they were of 'that Potter boy' who, they had been warned, was a hardened hooligan and attended St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys.  
Harry watched the dark figures crossing the grass and wondered who they had been beating up tonight. Look round, Harry found himself thinking as he watched them._Come on… look round… I'm sitting here all alone… come and have a go…_  
If Dudley's friends saw him sitting here, they would be sure to make a beeline for him and what would Dudley do then? He wouldn't want to lose face in front of the gang, but he'd be terrified of provoking Harry… it would be really fun to watch Dudley's dilemma, to taunt him, watch him, with him powerless to respond… and if any of the others tried hitting Harry, he was ready -he had his wand. Let them try… he'd love to vent some of his frustration on the boys who had once made his life hell.  
But they didn't turn around, they didn't see him, they were almost at the railings. Harry mastered the impulse to call after them… seeking a fight was not a smart move… he must not use magic… he would be risking expulsion again.  
The voices of Dudley's gang died away; they were out of sight, heading along Magnolia Road.  
There you go, Sirius, Harry thought dully. Nothing rash. Kept my nose clean. Exactly the opposite of what you'd have done. He got to his feet and stretched. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon seemed to feel that whenever Dudley turned up was the right time to be home, and any time after that was much too late. Uncle Vernon had threatened to lock Harry in the shed if he came home after Dudley ever again, so, stifling a yawn, and still scowling, Harry set off towards the park gate. Magnolia Road, like Privet Drive, was full of large, square houses with perfectly manicured lawns, all owned by large, square owners who drove very clean cars similar to Uncle Vernon' preferred Little Whinging by night, when the curtained windows made patches of jewel bright color in the darkness and he ran no danger of hearing disapproving mutters about his 'delinquent' appearance when he passed the householders. He walked quickly, so that halfway along Magnolia Road Dudley's gang came into view again; they were saying their farewells at the entrance to Magnolia Crescent. Harry stepped into the shadow of a large lilac tree and waited.  
"… squealed like a pig, didn't he?" Malcolm was saying, to guffaws from the others.  
"Nice right hook, Big D," said Piers.  
"Same time tomorrow?" said Dudley.  
"Round at my place, my parents will be out," said Gordon.  
"See you then," said Dudley.  
"Bye, Dud!"  
"See ya, Big D!"  
Harry waited for the rest of the gang to move on before setting off again. When their voices had faded once more he headed around the corner into Magnolia Crescent and by walking very quickly he soon came within hailing distance of Dudley, who was strolling along at his ease,  
humming tunelessly.  
"Hey, Big D!"Dudley turned.  
"Oh," he grunted. "It's you."  
"How long have you been 'Big D' then?" said Harry.  
"Shut it," snarled Dudley, turning away.  
"Cool name," said Harry, grinning and falling into step beside his cousin. "But you'll always be 'Ickle Diddykins' to me."  
"I said, SHUT IT!" said Dudley, whose ham-like hands had curled into fists.  
"Don't the boys know that's what your mum calls you?"  
"Shut your face."  
"You don't tell her to shut her face. What about 'Popkin' and 'Dinky Diddydums', can I use them then?" Dudley said nothing. The effort of keeping himself from hitting Harry seemed to demand all his self-control.  
"So who've you been beating up tonight?" Harry asked, his grin fading. "Another ten-year-old? I know you did Mark Evans two nights ago -"  
"He was asking for it," snarled Dudley.  
"Oh yeah?"  
"He cheeked me."  
"Yeah? Did he say you look like a pig that's been taught to walk on its hind legs? Cause that's  
not cheek, Dud, that's true." A muscle was twitching in Dudley's jaw. It gave Harry enormous satisfaction to know how furious he was making Dudley; he felt as though he was siphoning off his own frustration into his cousin, the only outlet he had.  
They turned right down the narrow alleyway where Harry had first seen Sirius and which formed a short cut between Magnolia Crescent and Wisteria Walk. It was empty and much darker than the streets it linked because there were no streetlamps. Their footsteps were muffled between garage walls on one side and a high fence on the other.  
"Think you're a big man carrying that thing, don't you?" Dudley said after a few seconds.  
"What thing?"  
"That - that thing you are hiding."  
Harry sobered, his melancholy breaking through. He sighed. "No. Not really." He replied softly. "Ha," his laugh was horse, "I'm stuck here with you and everyone I care about is off somewhere in God only knows what kind of danger. What good does the power do me, if I can't use it to protect them?"  
Dudley stopped and stared at Harry uncomprehendingly and Harry gave another rueful laugh. "You can't scare me anymore, Dudley, but this?" He pulled his wand and regarded it sadly. "This isn't why. I haven't been afraid of you since the first time I almost died."  
The two walked on for a few moments in silence, before Dudley spoke again. His voice was curiously serious, as though he was coming to some epiphany. "You really mean that, don't you?" the larger boy asked. "The first time you almost died?" Harry let out another harsh laugh.  
"Yeah. I've almost died several times. Seems to be an annual school event." He raised his voice in imitation of a sporting events announcer. "And here we are again! What shall Harry face this year? A dragon? No! Done that one before! A basilisk? Done that one too! Evil wizard who tried to murder him as a baby but failed and is now back from the dead? An old one but a good one! Here we go again, folks, lets see how he handles this one!"  
Dudley regarded him oddly for a few moments before asking, "Why do you go back? If it's that bad, why do you love it so much?" Harry stared at him.  
"That's where my family is."  
Suddenly, Dudley gave an odd, shuddering gasp, as though he had been doused in icy water. Something had happened to the night. The star-strewn indigo sky was suddenly pitch black and lightless - the stars, the moon, the misty street lamps at either end of the alley had vanished. The distant rumble of cars and the whisper of trees had gone. The balmy evening was suddenly piercingly, bitingly cold. They were surrounded by total, impenetrable, silent darkness, as though some giant hand had dropped a thick, icy mantle over the entire alleyway, blinding them. Harry had a sinking feeling in his chest. _Please don't let this be what I think it is... _He turned his head this way and that, trying to see something, but the darkness pressed on his eyes like a weightless veil. Dudley's terrified voice broke in Harry's ear.  
"W-what is going on? Are you doing this?"  
"I'm not doing anything! Shut up and don't move!"  
"I c-can't see! I've g-gone blind! I -"  
"I said shut up!"  
Harry stood stock still, turning his sightless eyes left and right. The cold was so intense he was shivering all over; goose bumps had erupted up his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up - he opened his eyes to their fullest extent, staring blankly around, unseeing. It was impossible… they couldn't be here… not in Little Whinging… he strained his ears… he  
would hear them before he saw them…  
"W-what is it?" Dudley whimpered. "W-where are you? What are you d-do—?"  
"Will you shut up?" Harry hissed, "I'm trying to lis —"  
But he fell silent. He had heard just the thing he had been dreading. There was something in the alleyway apart from themselves, something that was drawing long,hoarse, rattling breaths. Harry felt a horrible jolt of dread as he stood trembling in the freezing air.  
"It- it- it's something after you! I know it!"  
"Dudley, shut—"  
WHAM!  
Dudley slammed into him, knocking him to the ground and his wand from his hand. He heard Dudley blundering away, hitting the alley fence, stumbling. "DUDLEY, COME BACK! YOU'RE RUNNING RIGHT AT IT!" There was a horrible squealing yell and Dudley's footsteps stopped. At the same moment, Harry felt a creeping chill behind him that could mean only one thing. There was more than one.  
"DUDLEY, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! WHATEVER YOU DO, KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT! Wand!" Harry muttered frantically, his hands flying over the ground like spiders. "Where's - wand -come on -lumos!"  
He said the spell automatically, desperate for light to help him in his search - and to his disbelieving relief, light flared inches from his right hand - the wand tip had ignited. Harry snatched it up, scrambled to his feet and turned around. His stomach turned over.  
A towering, hooded figure was gliding smoothly towards him, hovering over the ground, no feet or face visible beneath its robes,sucking on the night as it came. Stumbling backwards, Harry raised his wand. "Expecto patronum!"  
A silvery wisp of vapour shot from the tip of the wand and the Dementor slowed, but the spell hadn't worked properly; tripping over his own feet, Harry retreated further as the Dementor bore down upon him, panic fogging his brain -concentrate –  
A pair of grey, slimy, scabbed hands slid from inside the Dementor's robes, reaching for him. A rushing noise filled Harry's ears. "Expecto patronum!"  
His voice sounded dim and distant. Another wisp of silver smoke, feebler than the last, drifted from the wand - he couldn't do it any more, he couldn't work the spell.  
There was laughter inside his own head, shrill, high-pitched laughter… he could smell the Dementor's putrid, death-cold breath filling his own lungs, drowning him - think… something happy…  
But there was no happiness in him… the Dementor's icy fingers were closing on his throat - the high-pitched laughter was growing louder and louder, and a voice spoke inside his head: "Bow to death, Harry… it might even be painless… I would not know… I have never died…"  
He was never going to see Hermione and Ron again – And their faces burst clearly into his mind as he fought for breath. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"  
An enormous silver stag erupted from the tip of Harry's wand; its antlers caught the Dementor in the place where the heart should have been; it was thrown backwards, weightless as darkness,and as the stag charged, the Dementor swooped away, bat-like and defeated. "THIS WAY!" Harry shouted at the stag. Wheeling around, he sprinted down the alleyway, holding the lit wand aloft. "DUDLEY? DUDLEY!" He had run barely a dozen steps when he reached them: Dudley was curled up on the ground, his arms clamped over his face. A second Dementor was crouching low over him, gripping his wrists in its slimy hands, prizing them slowly almost lovingly apart, lowering its hooded head towards Dudley's face as though about to kiss him.  
"GET IT!" Harry bellowed, and with a rushing, roaring sound, the silver stag he had conjured came galloping past him. The Dementor's eyeless face was barely an inch from Dudley's when the silver antlers caught it; the thing was thrown up into the air and, like its fellow, it soared  
away and was absorbed into the darkness; the stag cantered to the end of the alleyway and dissolved into silver mist. Moon, stars and street lamps burst back into life. A warm breeze swept the alleyway. Trees rustled in neighboring gardens and the mundane rumble of cars in Magnolia Crescent filled the air again. Harry stood quite still, all his senses vibrating, taking in the abrupt return to normality. After a moment, he became aware that his T-shirt was sticking to him; he was drenched in sweat. He could not believe what had just happened. Dementors here, in Little Whinging.  
Dudley lay curled up on the ground, whimpering and shaking. Harry bent down to see whether he was in a fit state to stand up, but then he heard loud, running footsteps behind him. Instinctively raising his wand again, he spun on his heel to face the newcomer.  
Mrs. Figg, their batty old neighbor, came panting into sight. Her grizzled grey hair was escaping from its hairnet, a clanking string shopping bag was swinging from her wrist and her feet were halfway out of her tartan carpet slippers. Harry made to stow his wand hurriedly out of sight, but-  
"Don't put it away idiot boy!" she shrieked. "What if there are more of them around? Oh, I'm  
going to kill Mundungus Fletcher! And maybe Dumbledore while I'm at it!"

"He left!" said Mrs. Figg, wringing her hands. "Left to see someone about a batch of cauldrons that fell off the back of a broom! I told him I'd flay him alive if he went, and now look! Dementors! It's just lucky I put Mr. Tibbies on the case! But we haven't got time to stand  
around! Hurry, now, we've got to get you back! Oh, the trouble this is going to cause! I will kill him!"  
"But -" The revelation that his batty old cat-obsessed neighbor knew what Dementors were was almost as big a shock to Harry as meeting two of them down the alleyway. "You're - you're a witch?"  
"I'm a Squib, as Mundungus knows full well, so how on earth was I supposed to help you fight off Dementors? He left you completely without cover when I'd warned him -"  
"This Mundungus has been following me? Hang on - it was him! He Disapparated from the front of my house!"  
"Yes, yes, yes, but luckily I'd stationed Mr. Tibbies under a car just in case, and Mr. Tibbies came and warned me, but by the time I got to your house you'd gone - and now - oh,I TOLD Dumbledore not to leave Mundungus on the job! I TOLD him that Mundungus wasn't fit to protect anyone, not even hisself! But did the Great and Mighty listen to me? You!" she shrieked at Dudley, still supine on the alley floor. "Get your fat bottom off the ground, quick!"  
"You know Dumbledore?" said Harry, staring at her.  
"Of course I know Dumbledore, who doesn't know Dumbledore? But come on - I'll be no help if they come back, I've never so much as transfigured a teabag." She stooped down, seized one of Dudley's massive arms in her wizened hands and tugged. "Get up, you useless lump, get up!"  
But Dudley either could not or would not move. He remained on the ground, trembling and ashen-faced, his mouth shut very tight. "I'll do it." Harry took hold of Dudley's arm and heaved. With an enormous effort he managed to hoist him to his feet. Dudley seemed to be on the point of fainting. His small eyes were rolling in their sockets and sweat was beading his face;the moment Harry let go of him he swayed dangerously.  
"Hurry up!" said Mrs. Figg hysterically.  
Harry pulled one of Dudley's massive arms around his own shoulders and dragged him towards the road, sagging slightly under the weight. tottered along in front of them, peering anxiously around the corner.  
"Keep your wand out," she told Harry, as they entered Wisteria Walk. "Never mind the Statute of Secrecy now, there's going to be hell to pay anyway, we might as well be hanged for a dragon as an egg. Talk about the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery… this was exactly what  
we were afraid of - What's that at the end of the street? Oh, it's just Mr. Prentice… don't put your wand away, boy, don't I keep telling you I'm no use?"  
It was not easy to hold a wand steady and haul Dudley along at the same time. Harry gave his cousin an impatient dig in the ribs, but Dudley seemed to have lost all desire for independent movement. He was slumped on Harry's shoulder, his large feet dragging along the ground.  
"Why didn't you tell me you're a Squib, Mrs. Figg?" asked Harry, panting with the effort to keep walking. "All those times I came round your house - why didn't you say anything?"  
"Dumbledore's orders. I was to keep an eye on you but not say anything. He said you were too young. I wanted to tell you but... well... I'm sorry I gave you such a miserable time, Harry, but the Dursleys would never have let you come if they'd thought you enjoyed it. It wasn't easy, you know… but oh my word," she said tragically, wringing her hands once more, "how could Dumbledore have left Mundungus to watch over you? And how could Mundungus have left, he was supposed to be on duty until midnight - where is he? How am I going to tell anyone what's happened? I can't Apparate."  
"I've got an owl, you can borrow her." Harry groaned, wondering whether his spine was going to snap under Dudleys weight.  
"Harry, you don't understand! Your guardians will need to act as quickly as possible, the Ministry have their own ways of detecting underage magic, they'll know already, you mark my words."  
"But I was getting rid of Dementors, I had to use magic - they're going to be more worried about what Dementors were doing floating around Wisteria Walk, surely?"  
"Oh, my dear, I wish it were so, but I'm afraid - MUNDUNGUS FLETCHER, I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!"  
There was a loud crack and a strong smell of drink mingled with stale tobacco filled the air as a squat, unshaven man in a tattered overcoat materialized right in front of them. He had short, bandy legs, long straggly ginger hair and bloodshot, baggy eyes that gave him the doleful look of  
a basset hound. He was also clutching a silvery bundle that Harry recognized at once as an Invisibility Cloak.  
"S'up, Figgy?" he said, staring from Mrs. Figg to Harry and Dudley. "What 'appened to staying undercover?"  
"I'll give you undercover!" cried Mrs. Figg. "Dementors, you useless, skiving sneak thief!"  
"Dementors?" repeated Mundungus, aghast. "Dementors, 'ere?"  
"Yes, here, you worthless pile of bat droppings, here!" shrieked Mrs. Figg. "Dementors attacking the boy on your watch!"  
"Blimey," said Mundungus weakly, looking from Mrs. Figg to Harry, and back again. "Blimey, I -"  
"And you off buying stolen cauldrons! Didn't I tell you not to go? Didn't I!"  
"I - well, I -" Mundungus looked deeply uncomfortable. "It — it was a very good business opportunity, see -"  
Mrs. Figg raised the arm from which her string bag dangled and whacked Mundungus around the face and neck with it; judging by the clanking noise it made it was full of cat food.  
"Ouch - gerroff - gerroff, you mad old bat! Someone's gotta tell Dumbledore!"  
"Yes - they - have!" yelled Mrs. Figg, swinging the bag of cat food at every bit of Mundungus she could reach. "And - it - had - better - be - you - and - you - can - tell - him - why - you - weren't - there - to - help!"  
"Keep your 'airnet on!" said Mundungus, his arms over his head, cowering. "I'm going, I'm going!"

And with another loud crack, he vanished.  
"I hope someone murders him!" said Mrs. Figg furiously. "Now come on, Harry, what are you waiting for?"  
Harry decided not to waste his remaining breath on pointing out that he could barely walk under Dudley's bulk. He gave the semi-conscious Dudley a heave and staggered onwards.  
"I'll take you to the door," said Mrs. Figg, as they turned into Privet Drive."Just in case there are more of them around… oh my word, what a catastrophe… and you had to fight them off yourself… well, it's no good crying over spilt potion, I suppose… but the cat's among the pixies now."  
"So," Harry panted, "Dumbledore's… been having… me followed?"  
"Of course he has," said Mrs. Figg impatiently. "Did you expect him to let you wander around on your own after what happened in June? Good Lord, boy, they told me you were intelligent… right… get inside and stay there," she said, as they reached number four. "I expect someone will  
be in touch with you soon enough."  
"What are you going to do?" asked Harry quickly.  
"I'm going straight home," said Mrs. Figg, staring around the dark street and shuddering. "I'll need to wait for more instructions. Just stay in the house. Goodnight."  
"Hang on, don't go yet! I want to know -" But Mrs. Figg had already set off at a trot, carpet slippers flopping, string bag clanking. "Wait!" Harry shouted after her. He had a million questions to ask anyone who was in contact with Dumbledore; but within seconds Mrs. Figg was swallowed by the darkness. Scowling, Harry readjusted Dudley on his shoulder and made his slow, painful way up number four's garden path.  
The hall light was on. Harry stuck his wand back inside the waistband of his jeans, rang the bell and watched Aunt Petunia's outline grow larger and larger, oddly distorted by the rippling glass in the front door.  
"Diddy! About time too, I was getting quite - quite -Diddy, what's the matter!"  
Harry looked sideways at Dudley and ducked out from under his arm just in time. Dudley swayed on the spot for a moment, his face pale green… then he opened his mouth and vomited all over the doormat.  
"DIDDY! Diddy, what's the matter with you? Vernon? VERNON!"  
Harry's uncle came galumphing out of the living room, walrus moustache blowing hither and thither as it always did when he was agitated. He hurried forwards to help Aunt Petunia negotiate a weak-kneed Dudley over the threshold while avoiding stepping in the pool of sick.  
"He's ill, Vernon!"  
"What is it, son? What's happened? Did Mrs. Polkiss give you something foreign for tea?"  
"Why are you all covered in dirt, darling?Have you been lying on the ground?"  
"Hang on - you haven't been mugged, have you, son?"  
Aunt Petunia screamed. "Phone the police, Vernon! Phone the police! Diddy, darling, speak to Mummy! What did they do to you?"  
In all the kerfuffle nobody seemed to have noticed Harry, which suited him perfectly. He  
managed to slip inside just before Uncle Vernon slammed the door and, while the Dursleys made their noisy progress down the hall towards the kitchen, Harry moved carefully and quietly towards the stairs.  
"Who did it, son? Give us names. We'll get them, don't worry."  
"Shh! He's trying to say something, Vernon! What is it, Diddy? Tell Mummy!"  
Harry's foot was on the bottom-most stair when Dudley found his voice.  
"Him."  
Harry froze, foot on the stair, face screwed up, braced for the explosion, but Dudley continued to speak. "H...Harry... help..." The bigger boy was tipping slowly sideways, his eyes rolling back. Harry leapt away from the stairs and rushed over to his shocked relatives, barking out orders which Petunia was too flabbergasted to resent.  
"Aunt Petunia, do you have chocolate? Uncle Vernon, keep him up!" Petunia was shaking her head mindlessly in response to his question, her eyes fastened on her son, who seemed to be passing in and out of consciousness. "Upstairs, in my trunk, there is a red velvet bag. Go get it! I have something to help him!" With a nod, Petunia dashed up the stair, returning shortly with Harry's candy bag. He rummaged for a moment before catching a chocolate frog and unwrapping it. He shoved it into Dudley's mouth while Petunia screeched about poison and Vernon grew steadily more and more purple. After a short time the color returned to Dudley's pale cheeks and his breath steadied. The frantic parents did not relax until their precious boy spoke again.  
"T...thank you, Harry." Harry nodded and stepped back, preparing for the inevitable tantrum that was soon to follow. "What... what were those things?" Vernon and Petunia, who had apparently been shocked into silence by their son's civil conversation with their hated nephew, waited with baited breath for the answer. Harry suppressed a shudder.  
"Dementors... They were dementors," his voice was low and he seemed, in that moment, much older than sixteen. He turned sharply at Petunia's sudden intake of breath.  
"And what, exactly, are dementors, BOY?" Vernon, who had found his voice at his wife's gasp, thundered. "And what have you done to my boy? What have they to do with you?" Harry began to answer, but was cut of by Dudley.  
"Harry SAVED me, Dad!" Vernon's face blanched white and he stuttered into silence. "Let him talk. He didn't do anything from me. He chased those things away and he just now, right here in front of you, kept me from passing out!" He turned to Harry. "How did you know what to do? What was that?" Harry gave a short laugh.  
"Remember I told you how I had almost died several times?" Dudley nodded in response. "Blame those things for one or two of them. I gave you a chocolate frog, my last one, by the way. The chocolate helps fight the effects of the dementors off."  
"Why weren't you affected?" Petunia asked, willingly allowing herself to be drawn in, now that the magic she had been running from all her life had almost taken her only son.  
"I was. I've learned to compensate for it."  
Suddenly, there was a tremendous crash as a large white shadow swept through the window. "Hedwig!" Harry cried as the large snowy owl landed on the table and extended her leg. He removed the scroll and read the familiar handwriting.

_Harry, whatever you do, Pup, stay inside the house. The Ministry_

_might be coming, but DON"T give them your wand. We will be there_

_to get you soon. Don't worry!_

_S-_

Harry gave a relieved sigh. Sirius was coming for him! His godfather would take him away and keep him safe. In the meantime, he had some anxious relatives to attend to. His relief had distracted him from the night's occurrences.  
That was until he felt the sudden, bone sapping chill again...


	2. Away

Disclaimer: I do not in any way own anything you recognize! Thank you JKR for a wonderful world to play in!

Hey guys! I'm so glad you liked the first chapter! This is the first one that has none of JKR's work in it, so from now on the plot is all my own! Please comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Harry gave a relieved sigh. Sirius was coming for him! His godfather would take him away and keep him safe. In the meantime, he had some anxious relatives to attend to. His relief had distracted him from the night's occurrences.  
That was, until he felt the sudden, bone sapping chill again...

Dudley was looking around with fearful eyes and Petunia shivered, clutching her arms around herself. Vernon began grumbling about overzealous air conditioners and moved to leave the room and adjust the thermostat. "Stop," Harry commanded in a low voice, throwing out his arm to physically block his uncle's way. Dudley met his eyes.  
"It's them again, isn't it?" the frightened boy asked. "The Dementors, they've come back..."  
The streetlights outside seemed to be a faded memory. The night was impenetrable. Hedwig let out a scream as the upstairs lights flickered and shut off. The lights in the stairway followed, as did the creeping cold and sense of dread. "Quiet, everyone," Harry directed his words directly towards Vernon, who was beginning to stutter out protestations. "Lumos," he whispered, just as the lights in the kitchen shut out. They stood in silence for a few moments before they heard them. There seemed to be a choir of low, rattling death sighs. In the light of Harry's wand a scabrous hand visibly scratched down the inside of the open window.  
Petunia sank to her knees, sobbing, and Vernon followed soon after, his massive bulk quivering in fear. Dudley, a little more prepared, lasted a little longer before slumping in his chair. The sighs multiplied; there had to be hundreds of them out there. In Harry's head he heard screams, Cedric's, his own. "Ex...expecto patronum!" He cried, but once again all his wand produced was a weak silvery vapor. Memories flooded him, of this house, its occupants, of his starvation, the beatings.  
An arm was now stretching inside the windows. Somehow, the Dementors were breaking through the supposed protection that were still on the house. _Happy thoughts, Harry... Happy... like Peter Pan... Remember Hermione reading it with you..._ At the memory of his friend, her dark head bent close to his, her soft sweet voice reading the words out loud, Harry's mind flashed clear. Running to the window he screamed "EXPECTO PATRONUM! The stag flew out into the night, illuminating the sky, but what Harry saw there gave him no hope. There were hundreds of Dementors circling above the house. His stag was standing guard in front of the window, fighting off the ones that came closest, but it was all he could do. As Harry realized the hopelessness of the situation, the stag began to flicker. He leapt back as one of the Dementors slipped past the patronus and pressed itself halfway through the window. There was a sudden tremendous crack then, suddenly...  
"Expecto Patronum!" The cry was a chorus of voices and was followed by a stream of silvery animals. He recognized Hermione's otter, and Sirius' huge dog, Professor Lupin's massive wolf and Professor McGonagall's cat. They were followed by two he didn't know, a smaller wolf and a lynx. With Harry's relief his patronus strengthened, leaving the otter to protect the window and joining the others in fighting off the Dementors. They made short work of it. The remaining Dementors fled, their tattered cloaks streaming behind them in the wash of light from the spells. When the monsters were gone and Harry could turn his attention to his rescuers, he was immediately tackled by Hermione. He held her as closely as he could, murmuring his thanks into her hair and rocking her slowly back and forth while his eyes met Sirius's over her head. Eventually the girl pulled back and placed her hands on either side of Harry's face.  
"Oh! Harry! I was so afraid! When I heard about the Dementors, I begged to be allowed to come! I knew you weren't safe! Dumbledore wasn't going to let ANYONE come get you, but I guess he changed his mind, because here we are! Oh! Thank goodness! Who knows what might have happened!" When the torrent of words showed no sign of stopping, Harry interrupted.  
"Hermione... Hermione... MIONE!" The brunette stuttered to a stop, raising tearful brown eyes to meet Harry's green. Harry smiled at her. "You're babbling." She gave a little laugh and relented, allowing him to wrap an arm around her waist and turn to the adults who had come along. Sirius and Lupin were watching him while Professor McGonagall was kneeling beside the Dursleys, along with the two he didn't know. The three stood as he regarded them. One was a slight girl with a cheeky smile and short hair a vibrant shade of purple. She gave a little wave to the confused young man. The other was an enormously tall dark skinned man, who stared solemnly at Harry before extending his hand.  
"Kingsley Shacklebolt, Mr. Potter. Pleased to make your acquaintance." Harry returned the handshake, then looked over at the girl, who seemed to be just a few years older than he and Hermione.  
"Evening, Harry! Call me Tonks!" Here, Professor McGonagall interrupted.  
"Yes, yes, nice to meet everyone! Now it looks as though we have more to do than we thought. First, we must get this family to safety. Now," she looked over at the Dursleys. Vernon was holding Petunia and looking confused, while Dudley was giving Harry a piercing stare, "Kingsley, if you would take Mr. Dursley, and Tonks, Mrs. Dursley. I shall take Dudley myself. Sirius, will you and the children be quite all right on Buckbeak?"  
"We'll be fine. C'mon, pup. Let's get you and your lady mounted up." Harry and Hermione wisely ignored the "your lady" remark, though a slight blush graced her features. They exited the house and Sirius remembered to place a locking charm on the door before they began their walk down the street towards where Buckbeak was hidden in the park.  
"Sirius, what is going on? Dumbledore told me that there were protections on the house, that they would prevent Voldemort from getting through! What happened?" Harry fired questions at his godfather before turning to Hermione. "What are you doing here? Where are the Weasleys?"  
"Slow down, pup! Just wait." Harry leveled a glare at him and Sirius threw his arms in the air. "I promise! As soon as we get you safe, we'll tell you everything!"  
"Please, Harry," Hermione asked, placing a hand on his wrist. "Please, be patient for a little while longer." The frustrated man heaved a sigh and acquiesced, twisting his hand to close around Hermione's.  
"Fine, but you can't keep things from me anymore. I need to know what is going on." Hermione squeezed his hand tighter and nodded her agreement with him.  
Soon they were all swinging over the gate in the park and were met by Buckbeak, who exchanged solemn nods with Harry and Hermione and nudged his head into Sirius' chest, almost hard enough to knock him over. Sirius patted his neck. "Here now, mate, we're leaving. Up you go, Hermione! Harry, you're they were mounted, Buckbeak took to the air, and soon they were looking down at the brightly colored lights as England slid past underneath them. They flew for what seemed like hours before Harry slipped into sleep, lulled by the soft beating of wings.

When Harry awoke, he was wrapped in comfort. Before he even opened his eyes, he could hear a crackling fire. The bed he lay upon was the softest thing he had ever felt and the blankets and pillows were amazingly plush. Slowly, he opened his eyes and sat up, taking in the room around him. The walls were painted a rich hunter green, with warm wood wainscoting. The fire he had heard earlier burned merrily in a red brick fireplace topped by a mantle of the same wood as the walls. Upon the mantle stood tall pillar candles in warm rusty reds and gold. The bed was a sumptuous four poster, big enough to hold six, and piled high with every comfortable thing. Across the room, in a corner next to a plain wooden door and a massive bookshelf, slumped Hermione. Her hair hung in her face, a book lay open in her lap, and her eyes were closed in sleep.  
"Hermione?" Harry asked softly. The girl started up from her seat and rushed to his bedside.  
"Oh! Harry! Are you ok? I was so worried!" Harry gently hushed her, pulling her into a hug.  
"Mione, I'm fine. I promise. Where are we? What is going on?" Hermione bounced up and pulled him from the bed.  
"First off, go get cleaned up. I'll wait here. The bathroom is through there." She pointed to the door beside the bookshelf. "There are some clothes in there for you." With that, she reclaimed her book and settled on the bed, leaving Harry to follow her instructions. He gave a rueful smile as he crossed the room and entered the bath.  
The bath was miraculous, he decided when he finally rose from the steaming water. It wasn't on Hogwarts standard, but it was certainly large enough to hold several people. The entire room was done in rich red brown marble, from the walls and double sinks to the enormous tub. Once Harry had dried off on a luxurious towel and dressed he rejoined Hermione in the bedroom. "Now can we go?" he asked impatiently. Hermione laughed.  
"Come on!" She took his hand again and led him out of the room and down another elegantly decorated hallway and down a set of broad stairs. "I know you're hungry, so I told everyone we would meet them in the small dining room. Kreacher!" She stopped when the house elf appeared before her. "Will you let everyone know we are heading down?"  
"Yes, mistress," the elf replied before vanishing again. Harry gave Hermione an odd look and she just smiled before leading on.  
"We'll explain everything in just a moment. Come, sit, eat!" She escorted him into another large room, this one holding a table large enough for eight or ten. The walls here were a soft dusty blue and a rose colored carpet adorned the hardwood floor. Delicious aromas drifted from a long sideboard covered with steaming food. Hermione sat him in a chair and then bounced off to the sideboard, returning with a plate laden with food. She set it before him, then waited for him to begin eating before going to get her own. Shortly, they were joined by several other people, some whom Harry did not know and some whom he had been expecting were absent. Everyone filed round to the buffet and filled their own plates before taking a seat at the table. Harry regarded each in turn. Sirius sat across from him, next to Remus and Tonks. On Harry's other side were seated Fred and George. Kingsley Shacklebolt was in attendance alongside Minerva McGonagall and Alastor Moody. Harry looked round the table expectantly for a moment before Sirius spoke.  
"Well, pup, I suppose you wonder where you are, and what we're all doing here, hmm?" Harry nodded in agreement. "Well, son, welcome to Potter Manor, the ancestral home of the Potter family. We've brought you here to keep you safe."  
"But, where are Ron and the rest of the Weasleys? Where is Dumbledore?" A sad look overtook Sirius' face.  
"Well, see, that's the thing. We've found out some things we think you should know."  
"I don't understand? Ron's my friend... are they ok?" Fred interrupted Harry's questions.  
"They're traitors, Harry. Traitors to you."


End file.
